There was a small boy

Who liked to play in the village

He laughed, and cried, and jumped around

And wandered through the village

But one day the bad men came

And burnt down the town

But the little boy hid

And kept his head down

His face has an expression

Like sorrow and fury

All mixed up

But it was still there

The little boy grew up

To be a strong man

He seeked out his enemies

And found them hiding in the mountains

He killed them all

Without any remorse

Now this might sound cruel

But you must remember his past

He fought valiantly in the wars

Until he dies of natural death

They honour him with a posthumous medal

And he is nicknamed The Avenger